Her earrings fly through the space from the moon to the landing on Jupiter
when I turned and missed the call I found a fallen angel shattered in the mirror
Did I ache to ask her a question? Echoing the shadows against the muddy walls of the well
I had a cave inside my heart and a small temporary tattoo of a bicycle in my hand.
I had tea with my grandmother, two bags worth, and wondered what my Dad would think
if he saw me smoking with hoodlums. I longed to taste the cool night air on the back of a Camel
and walk through the pinhole of Africa into the Blues-soaked rags of the Sahara
wake up in Egypt with eyelashes longer than power lines, full of soot and chalk and nail polish
in the realm of a frozen tundra, where Russia meets the West.